Katie's Dream (9 page)

“What can I do for you today?” He set the paper down, and before I could answer, he was asking another question. “This your little girl?”

“No, sir. That's why I've come.”

I did my best to relate the whole story to him. Everything Edward had said, and everything Katie had told us. The sheriff just sat, eyeing the girl and nodding.

When I finished and asked him if there wasn't a way he could find her relatives, he leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I never heard you deny bein' from Pennsylvania.”

“I am. At least we lived there a while. Harrisburg. But—”

He rocked forward. “Now, if your own brother was convinced, and the mother of the child—”

“Sheriff Law, if she was telling the truth, there has to be another Samuel Wortham.”

He laughed. “And the spittin' image of ya, to boot.”

“I don't know about that . . .” I could feel a surge of heat down my spine. He didn't believe me. How could I get him to understand?

He sighed. “Well, Wortham. I wouldn't a' thought faced with somethin' head on, you'd still be buckin', but some folks are like that.”

I could feel my shoulders tighten, the heat rising in me. “I told you the truth, Sheriff. I never met the woman.”

“No doubt you never met her kin, I'll grant you that.” He shook his head. “You're in a spot, I know, already havin' kids to raise and this being sprung on you sudden. I'll do what I can to find a relative of the mother, but only 'cause I agree with you that they might not know what she's gone off and done. If it was my granddaughter hauled across the countryside, I'd want somebody to tell me.”

He turned his face to Katie, who stood quietly beside me, watching him. “Tell me, sugar. This Mr. Wortham, here. He been treatin' you all right?”

Almost I said something, but I knew it wouldn't help my case any in his eyes.

Katie nodded her head and reached her little hand to mine again. “He's nice. And Mrs. Wortham is nice too. I like 'em plenty good.”

“Well. I'm relieved to hear that. Right decent of the missus, especially. Wouldn't you say so, Samuel?”

It chafed me, what I saw in his eyes. Convinced of my guilt, he was taking me for a scoundrel. But I couldn't argue. If he truly searched the matter, he'd find out I was telling the truth, I was sure of it. “Julia's a wonderful woman, Sheriff Law,” I agreed. “I'm blessed to have her.”

“Well, then, I won't need to be concerned over leaving the child in your care. Your brother brung her to you, and the way I see it, she's your responsibility, 'less some other kin comes forward askin' for her.”

“Sheriff Law—”

He held up his hand. “I don't see no reason to use the gas to get her to the orphanage, nor for them spending the upkeep when she's got a decent arrangement with kin.” He turned to Katie. “You been told this man's kin, ain't that so?”

Katie nodded.

“See what I mean? These things happen, Samuel. Ain't an action in this world that don't bear consequences.”

I took a deep breath. “I don't object to keeping her. She's already spent one night, and it might be easier for her not to spend the next one with a whole new set of strangers. If we can help for a while, that's fine. But let me describe my brother to you, in the chance you might see him. Maybe he could tell us something more. Maybe Miss Vale might have told him something about her family—”

“Didn't she tell you anything?”

I swallowed hard, careful to restrain the fire I was feeling. “No, sir. I've never spoken to her.”

He smiled. “This is interesting.”

He asked Katie some more questions—about me, my brother, her mother, and anyone else she could remember. There was a grandmother, we found out. Trudy Vale's mother. But Katie only recalled seeing her once when she was very little, and they'd been in so many towns since then that she didn't know where the woman lived.

Sheriff Law wrote a few things down. Then he lifted his eyes to me. “What about your mother?”

The question took me completely by surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is she still living? Would she take in this little girl if you and your wife decide that you . . . uh . . . just can't deal with it?”

I could feel a fiery rush of protest flooding my insides. How could he suggest such a thing? “She has nothing to do with this, and I wouldn't send a child to her home, anyway.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Why not? What's the matter with her?”

I took a breath. I wished he hadn't asked. But I might as well tell him the truth. “The last I knew, Sheriff, she was drunk every chance she got. Her husband, my stepfather, owns a speakeasy in Albany. The liquor flowed through there like a river before the prohibition, and he bragged to me once that he knew sources the government didn't and his business would never be dry.”

“You told the local officials about this?”

“No. I didn't have any proof, and the government was already watching him. Almost shut him down, but he was serving food and setting up entertainment and they couldn't find any liquor on the place. I don't know what he does with it.” Quick as a jumping flame, it occurred to me that Edward might have met Trudy Vale right there in the speakeasy. Why hadn't I thought of it before? Maybe Mother and Jimmy knew her.

The sheriff was looking me over pretty straight. “Would've figured you to come from a Christian home, Wortham. But you're saying your mother's a drunk and your father's a cheat.”

“My stepfather. My father's dead.”

“Think I should have run you out of town when you first come?”

“You didn't have reason.”

He smiled. “Well, you don't fly off the handle at me, anyway. Got to give you credit for that.”

I told him where my stepfather's establishment was, and where he and my mother lived, in case they could tell us anything about Trudy Vale. But I wondered if it had done much good to come. The sheriff had almost nothing to go on in his search. And he thought me pretty ignorant and calloused, I'm sure, as though I were trying to lie my way out of an obligation.

Before we left, he promised Katie he'd try to find her
grandmother. But he didn't promise me anything at all. And he left me no choice but to take Katie back home with me. Of course, she was all right with that; but I wondered if it was really best for her. The closer she attached herself to me and to Julia, the harder it would be for her when the time came for her to go.

I crossed the street, holding Katie's hand again. It was getting sticky hot. Sweat had my shirt damp already, and I wished I had money in my pocket to buy the girl an ice cream and take something home to Julia and the rest.

At least Julia wouldn't be upset about me bringing the child back. She'd almost expected it. And I didn't know how to insist on anything different.

We were nearly to the truck when Hazel Sharpe and her nephew rounded the corner by the Feed and Seed, evidently on their way home from somewhere. I groaned inside, hoping they didn't see us. Or at least didn't pay us any attention.

But Hazel headed straight in my direction just as fast as she could walk. I didn't want to listen to her today. I didn't want her putting one word in on all this.

“Well, Mr. Wortham!” she was calling. “You with Barrett's truck again! I declare you drive it more'n he does. Is he gettin' rent?”

“I help him when he needs it, Miss Sharpe,” I acknowledged with a sigh. “We have an agreement.”

“Well, that's neither here nor there,” she breezed on. “But I better tell you what Ella Cole says. Somewhere our pastor's wife got the cockamamy notion that your Juli can start up a church choir. And she didn't even come to me about it! Me, the piano player!”

“I'm sure she consulted her husband, Miss Hazel.” I couldn't help smiling a little at her ridiculous conceit. As
if no one was supposed to do anything without consulting her first.

She crossed her arms impatiently. “I want you to tell that wife a' yours that our church ain't had a choir for forty years, and if it ever has one again, they'll have to have my help! There's no sense her even startin' otherwise. Loretta Crenshaw lef' me in charge a' the music when she was on her deathbed, and I'm the only one knows how to go about such a thing, anyhow.”

“As far as I know, Juli knows nothing about this yet.”

“That's why I'm tellin' you! Ain't you listenin'? You tell her that when Juanita Jones comes around, she needs to come and talk to me. How they gonna have a choir without the piano player? I never heard a' such a thing!”

I smiled at her. “Are Pastor and Mrs. Jones at home? Maybe you need to discuss this with them yourself.”

“If she don't have the courtesy to come to me, I ain't gonna darken their door!” Miss Hazel huffed. “It's not my job to go runnin' over there every time they don't think somethin' through! You just tell Juli to tell her she can't be goin' around steppin' on toes like this. There's got to be order in a church! When you got music already put in place, you don't go shovin' it aside to start up somethin' else with somebody who don't know what they're doin'. An' Juli don't know what she's doin'! She's never led no choir, has she?”

“No, ma'am. She hasn't,” I said, trying to step past her toward the truck.

“See what I mean? It's the confoundest thing I ever heard! What is that Juanita thinkin', anyhow?”

I tipped my hat. “Miss Hazel, I really must be going. But I'll tell my wife what you said.” I wondered what Juli would think. I could imagine a shrug of her shoulders, her quiet smile. She knew Miss Hazel better than I did, and handled her better than anybody I knew. Since Emma Graham, at least.

“I hope you tell her. Don't be forgettin'.” She stopped, suddenly staring down at Katie. “Now, look here. This ain't George Hammond's girl.”

I winced inside. “No, ma'am—”

“It ain't your Sarah neither. I'd know her 'cause she looks like her mama. So who are you, child? Speak up! What's your name?”

Taken by surprise, Katie backed up a step, squeezing my hand. I didn't blame her for being scared. This bent old lady was formidable, even for grown-ups. But the child managed to get her head together enough to whisper her name. “Katie. Katie Wortham.”

“Wortham, you say?” Hazel's head shot up. “What kin is she?” she demanded. “I never heard tell of this!”

I wanted to tell her Katie was my brother's, or just make something up and tell her anything. But I couldn't lie. And just to say he brought her wouldn't be enough. I sighed, thinking on how many people would hear about this now and the kind of twist Hazel Sharpe might put on my words. “Miss Hazel, I'm not sure if she's kin. We're hoping to find out.”

“What kind of riddle is that? Wouldn't you know if somebody's kin? Normal folks would!”

I could only sigh again. “We need to go.”

But Hazel wouldn't let me by so easily. “You're hidin' something! Sure as I'm alive!” She grabbed Katie's arm, making the poor girl jump. “Who's your daddy, girl? You can tell me. You must know who your people is. Who's your daddy, girl?”

Little Katie shook, and tears welled up in her eyes. She looked at me, and the tears started to fall. “I don't know.”

“You don't know!” Miss Hazel exclaimed. “My, oh my! What do you mean—”

“That's enough!” I surprised myself, being that abrupt. But Miss Hazel had no business talking to a child that way.
No matter what she'd think of me, I wouldn't have it. I picked Katie up, out of Hazel's grasp. “She's staying with us for a while, until we find her family,” I explained. “That's all there is to it. I'll give my wife your message.”

I set Katie in the truck, and Miss Hazel stood there and watched as I climbed in too. Herman gave me a sheepish sort of nod. I always wondered what he thought of his aunt's ravings.

“There's something mighty strange about this,” Hazel declared.

“Maybe so,” I told her. “But if a child came your way, you'd have to help her, wouldn't you? That's what we're doing, and we'll do our best.” I started the truck.

“You're a strange one, Sam Wortham.”

I tipped my hat. “Have a good day.” Then I backed away from the curb and drove off. Julia always said the best way to handle Miss Hazel was to be as sweet as possible. I didn't figure I'd been that, but at least she wouldn't be able to say I wasn't civil.

I called my mother's building from the telephone at Charlie Hunter's service station. I didn't know what to say about all this, only that I needed to ask her myself if she or Jimmy knew anything about Trudy Vale, and to let them know our sheriff might be asking too. I had to wait a long time while the gentleman downstairs went up to see if she was in. And when my mother finally came, she sounded awful. She said she didn't know who I was talking about and it wasn't right for me to give the sheriff their names. We didn't talk long. We never did.